


Part Deux

by orphan_account



Series: Hors de Prix [2]
Category: Glee
Genre: Alternate Universe, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-04-05
Updated: 2013-04-05
Packaged: 2017-12-07 12:24:18
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 964
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/748471
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/orphan_account/pseuds/orphan_account
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>How Kurt became who he is when he meets Blaine.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Part Deux

**Author's Note:**

> Inspired by the movie Hors de Prix (Priceless) with Audrey Tautou.
> 
> I don't quite know how to warn for this because I'm not even sure what exactly this is, but I'll just write it here, so noone gets any nasty surprises.  
> .  
> .  
> .  
> This alludes to something that might be taken as prostitution, it's consensual and both parties know what is going on, but it could be taken as a "sex against pricey presents" transaction.

Kurt hadn’t meant to become- this. Whatever this was. A gold-digger, a trophy wife, a different kind of prostitute. 

He had meant to go to New York and become famous, a star on Broadway or in the fashion industry. He had meant to find true love, everlasting love and romance, the man of his dreams.

He had always prided himself with his sense of style, his voice, his performing skills. The bullying had hurt, had torn him down and made him doubt himself, but they were narrow-minded people and he was too big and bright for them. They had tried to break him, but he would always look forward, to his shining future, and hold himself together with dreams and the knowledge and certainty that he was meant for bigger and better things.

At his audition for NYADA, he had given everything, but the rejection came and for the first time the crack stuck, a seed planted. He had never really doubted that he would make it. Had always believed that he could be who he thought he was meant to be. He had buried the doubt under his dreams and hugged his father goodbye and gone to New York. 

New York was everything he had imagined it would be, big and bright and fast and glamorous. 

It was also more bitter, harsh and cold, tearing into the crack and feeding the seed with its noise and shining people. 

No one would take him as a performer, too different and not enough experience, and Vogue was intimidating with its glamour and perfect people. Polished and handsome and different. He spend ten agonising minutes waiting beside better-looking and better dressed applicants before he run, fighting the tears. 

He stumbled into a hotel bar, posh and expensive and ordered a virgin something, and relinquished the feeling of envy coursing through him at all those rich and successful people around him.

When a man sat down beside him and bought him a drink and introduced himself, Kurt smiled and tried not to cough at the strong taste of alcohol. The man’s eyes trailed over him, appreciating and Kurt giggled at his jokes, leaned closer and bathed in the feeling of being wanted and looked at. 

He let Marcus’ hands trail over his thighs and followed him to the elevator and into his room, kissed him and licked the alcohol from his mouth. 

It felt good, to have a stranger’s eyes on him, to have a stranger’s hands touching him like he was desirable and liked. He felt powerful watching Marcus fall apart, listening to him moan and pant and he closed his eyes and let himself get lost in it.

It was nice, not like had had imagined his first time so many times before, not sweet and not romantic, but it was good.

The next morning, Marcus ordered them a luscious breakfast and took Kurt’s hand, bought him shirts and scarf and pants and ties, touching Kurt and complimenting him like he was desirable, and took him to dinner again and afterwards Kurt smiled and pushed him onto the bed and straddled him, teasing his lips along Marcus’ jaw. 

After that it was easy. The days blended together and Kurt got more things that he could ask for, ate luxuriously and listened to Marcus and laughed at his jokes.

 

It lasted three months before Marcus had to go back to his wife. Three months in which Kurt learned that there was something he was good at, in which he learned to perform to get what he wanted. He learned how to tease, how far to tease. He learned to listen to Marcus and smile at him and look at him and lean into him and laugh at his jokes. He learned when to talk, when to smile and when to take Marcus’ hand and pull him towards their bed. 

He learned how to get what he wanted, how to look up coyly and smile shyly and speak in half-finished sentences. 

Kurt was good at it, so very good and when Marcus was gone, he dressed in his best suit and seated himself at the bar, toying with the straw of his drink and smiled.

It took a few tries to get the rest of it right, to pick the rich, generous ones from the stingy ones or the ones that weren’t rich and liked to pretend. There were those that only wanted a few days, those who were too possessive and wouldn’t let Kurt leave their sight, there were those who were awful in bed and those who lacked hygiene. 

But with time he knew to keep the married ones from the available ones, the interested one from the one-night stands. 

By the time he was twenty-two Kurt had perfected it into an art and deemed himself ready enough for a long-term project, someone to provide for him and keep him and make sure he was missing nothing, who maybe could help Kurt get settled for the rest of his life.

Kurt met Jack on his twenty-third birthday. 

Jack was filthy rich and didn’t beat around the bush. He knew what Kurt wanted and smirked and bought him a drink, while Kurt smiled and laughed and touch him, available but not too easy. 

He breathed a sigh of relief when he was handed a credit card with his name on it a few months later and blew Jack in the shower, spent the next four days expanding his wardrobe. 

He hugged Jack and rode him into the bed when he was presented with a couple of tickets to Paris and smiled at his arm when they were at parties. 

It wasn’t how he had imagined his life going but it wasn’t bad. Not bad at all.


End file.
